Emily's Kitchen
by lndigo
Summary: I'm BACK! cue Jaws music. A oneshot about the pack, newly revised, funny, slightly cheesy, and not insane or overtly OOC. Reviews encouraged.


**I have a few ideas, but they're not really big enough to spin into stories of their own. So this is a random one-shot that might evolve into a series of small drabbles about the pack. Mostly funny, but a few serious ones as well.**

**Minor Eclipse spoilers contained in this chapter.**

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**Hello readers! I'm back! Ta-da! I knew you missed me. This is just a little warm-up. I've revised some of the language and generally cleaned up. You can look for more soon but I make no promises as to which. Some of my early stuff is TERRIBLE!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it… any of it. **

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"Don't." Emily's wooden spoon smacked down on the back of Embry's hand. "Wait until your brothers get here."

Embry grumbled and set his fork down, rubbing the back of his hand, though the little tap couldn't possibly have hurt.

"Who are waiting for anyways?" He mumbled, shooting a longing glance at the steaming glass pan of lasagne that Emily had set on the table.

She only frowned at him. "Wait." Emily said again, sounding troubled. She glanced anxiously up at the clock; werewolves weren't the most punctual of creatures, but it was unlike any of them to be late for dinner. The very mention of food usually sent them running to her doorstep.

It was very crowded in the tiny kitchen. It had been claustrophobic with just four wolves, never mind the eight that were assembled. The table now stretched from one wall to the doorway of the living room. The boys crowded around it, anticipating the coming meal. Leah lounged idly against the counter, contentedly digging in to her own plate of food.

"Who's still missing?" Jared asked, recounting the assembled crowd with a carefully innocent expression.

Sam answered him. "Just Quil and Collin. Quil's still out of town, but last I heard, Collin was on his way." He raised one black brow. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Suddenly, Jared was very interested in the bubbling cheesy top of the lasagna. "Erm… can't say that I do."

He sent an uncomfortable glance to Embry.

"You tell."

"It was your idea!"

Sam gave them both a level stare. "What. happened." he asked. The implied threat in his tone made them straighten.

"Erm… there was sort of a bet… and he lost." Embry stammered. "Collin's, er…not feeling so well at the moment." He stared deeply into the pasta, as if to uncover some way out of trouble in its cheese-wrapped layers.

Sam raised his eyebrowagain.

Jared's anxious expression suddenly turned to mirth. "He actually did it, too. I wouldn't even do it for money! Bet he's puking his guts out by now."

Embry began snicker. "Yeah, I can't believe he ate _roadkill._"

"He WHAT?" Leah paled, and looked down at her half-eaten food. A drop of thick, red tomato sauce dripped sluggishly onto the plate. "Excuse me," she said, clapping a hand over her mouth. "I think I just lost my appetite." She sprinted out of the kitchen, hand pressed firmly over her mouth.

The table erupted with laughter. Even Emily, disapproving as she was, laughed with them, half her face lighting up with a grin.

Leah reappeared, still looking pale, and scowled at them with more than her usual resentment. "Shut it." She snapped, with no result. Sam fought to hide a smile, and failed miserably. The others didn't even try.

"Oh MAN!" Seth hooted, "You should have seen your face! That was priceless!" He snickered again, earning him a cuff on the ear from his irate sister.

"Shut it," she repeated. She looked like she was about to say more, but was interrupted when the door slammed loudly inwards against the elongated table.

Quil stood in the doorway, dripping water from the ever-present rain onto Emily's nearly spotless kitchen floor. Points of light danced around the room, reflected. The wolves stared, suddenly silent, as they took in his changed appearance.

Quil raised one sparkling finger. "If you value your sanity," he said solemnly, "never, ever let a two-year-old play with glitter glue."

It took a moment for this to sink in.

Jacob sniggered, breaking the tension. "Well," he smirked, "It's better than the time she discovered stickers!"

Quil whalloped him.

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**C'est fini.**

**Press the purrrrrple button. C'mon. Do it. I dare ya! At least it's better than eating road kill!**


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